Not Enough Time to Say GoodBye
by Nyiestra
Summary: Doug and Joey are married. When he is told he is dying, they learn the true meaning of friendship. And of love. Updated 9.8.05
1. Relive the Past

Title: Not Enough Time to Say Good-Bye Summary: Doug is married to Joey. When he is told he is dying, they learn the true meaning of friendship. And of love. Rating: PG, probably  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Doug Witter sat uncomfortably in the doctor's office, tapping his foot anxiously on the floor as he waited for Dr. Ryan to come in. He felt a slight pressure on his knee, stilling his leg, and looked up to see his wife's forced smile.  
  
He took a deep breath. He hadn't wanted to come, but the headaches and dizzy spells had been too hard to hide, and Joey was just too damn stubborn for her own good. He was convinced it was something minor, and the appointment last week and the one today were just wastes of his time and money. Yeah, right, he thought to himself. Who are you trying to kid? He knew that, if it was a minor problem, the doctor wouldn't have been so adamant about him coming in for another appointment. A phoned in prescription or something equally simple would have done the trick.  
  
Shaking himself out of his thoughts - thoughts he was glad to leave behind because, like it or not, they were scaring him - he favored Joey with a small smile, and touched a hand to her stomach. Three months along, she was starting to show. And he couldn't be happier. No, he corrected himself. I'll be happier when Ryan gets his ass in here, says whatever he has to, and I can get the hell out of here.  
  
Dr. Ryan chose that moment to enter, and Doug sighed with relief. Anymore waiting and he was bound to drive himself insane. "Doctor," he greeted the thin, graying man.  
  
"Doug, Joey. Thank you for coming in."  
  
They both nodded in reply, and Doug spoke up. "Why, exactly, am I here?"  
  
"Always right to the point, Doug. You were that way even as a child."  
  
Doug chose to ignore the remark, knowing it was not meant to irritate him. "Are you going to answer me?"  
  
The doctor sat down in a chair across from them and closed his eyes slowly. Opening them, he glanced down at the clipboard in his hands, though Doug got the distinct impression he wasn't really looking at it. "Doug, I have the results of the MRI."  
  
"And?" Doug asked, leaning forward involuntarily. "What are they?" He felt Joey move slightly beside him.  
  
"Doug," the doctor swallowed hard. He'd been Doug's doctor for years, and had known the Witter family for longer than that. And that fact made what he had to do so much harder. "Doug, you have a brain tumor."  
  
Doug shook his head, convinced he hadn't heard the man correctly. "What?"  
  
"A brain tumor. I'm fairly certain I know what it is, after talking to a few people here, but you'll need to have a biopsy done for confirmation. But if it's what I suspect-" he broke off, finding it difficult to continue.  
  
"What do you suspect?" Joey heard herself ask, even though she dreaded the answer. Her hand found Doug's and squeezed it supportively, but felt no reaction from him. Glancing over, she saw him staring at Dr. Ryan, almost as if he wasn't even there.  
  
"From the results, I would say it is an anaplastic astrocytoma. That's a cancerous tumor whose cells grow more quickly than normal tissue cells and tend to grow into cells adjacent to the tumor."  
  
Doug stared at him. Brain cancer? Was that what this man was saying? No, he thought to himself. This isn't possible. I'm perfectly healthy, just a little stressed. It can't be. He glanced at Joey out of the corner of his eye. Her face was white, and her eyes seemed slightly glassy, as if she wasn't seeing anything in the room, almost as if she wasn't there at all. Christ, she doesn't need this. Not after what she went through with her mom. The thought of Joey's mother, who had died of cancer when she was 12 years old, shook him up. He and Joey's sister had been good friends, and he'd been by Bessie's side through a lot of their mother's illness. He'd seen what she went through. He knew the pain she'd suffered, and that the treatment, at times, had been worse on her than the illness itself. Aloud he asked simply, "Cancer?"  
  
The word echoed through Joey's mind. This can't be happening. It's just like mom. This can't be. Doug's so strong, and healthy. I used to think he was too healthy for his own good. So picky about what he eats, and so anal about his workouts. How can- But she knew the answer to that. It didn't matter how healthy you were. Cancer could hurt anyone. She heard the doctor's reply to Doug's query.  
  
"Yes, I think so. I'm sorry, Doug."  
  
Joey shook off the painful thoughts. She had to focus, if not for her own sake, but for Doug. "What can we do? I mean, after the diagnosis is confirmed?"  
  
"Well, I can't tell you a lot, unfortunately." He handed Doug a small card, and Joey glanced at it quickly. "That's the name and information for a neuro-oncologist in Massachusetts General Hospital. She's very good, one of the best in the East. She can tell you what your options are, and what the chances are."  
  
"What are the chances?" Doug asked slowly. "Can you tell us anything? What's the survival rate?"  
  
"It isn't good." He again glanced at the clipboard. "Only about 40% of patients in whom the cancer is found quickly and removed completely survive five years. In patients where it isn't found quickly, or where complete removal is impossible, that number drops to 20%."  
  
Doug struggled to conceal the fear he was feeling inside, more for Joey's sake than his own. Schooling his face into a blank expression he asked, "And which am I?"  
  
"Obviously, I can't speak to how much success they'll have in surgically removing the tumor. But with regard to timing," he frowned, and met Doug's eyes. "It doesn't look good. I'm very sorry."  
  
After a long moment of silence, Dr. Ryan asked them, "Would you like me to have my secretary make you an appointment with Dr. Steinbeck?"  
  
When Joey realized that Doug was too dazed by his tentative diagnosis to answer, she nodded. "Yes, please."  
  
As he left, she turned to Doug. Taking his right hand in both of hers she said softly, "We'll get through this, Doug. Somehow we will."  
  
He pulled away from her. "Don't, Jo. Not now, okay?" Standing up and turning quickly, he missed the pained expression on her face. "I-I need some air. I'll be at the car."  
  
"Doug, wait for me, please?" But he just walked away.  
  
As Doug left the inner office, Dr. Ryan and his secretary looked up, but neither spoke or made any move to stop him from leaving.  
  
Joey watched him go and struggled to keep her emotions in check. She knew Doug well enough to know that he'd avoid dealing with this until he was forced to. And he was starting now.  
  
Apparently Dr. Ryan knew that too. When he came back into the office, he smiled sadly. "I don't envy you trying to get through to him. He's not going to want to deal with this."  
  
"I know." Sitting back down, she shook her head. "This doesn't seem fair. He's such a good person. He doesn't deserve this." She looked up at him. "Does it sometimes seem to you that there are certain people who just get hit by everything, and so many others just go through life without ever knowing what it's like to hurt?"  
  
He sat down on the chair Doug had vacated. "Unfortunately, yes. Joey, if you feel like talking, I'm here, you know. I've known Doug long enough that he feels somewhat comfortable talking to me, as long as it's not his own problems he's talking about. I know about your family, and I know about his parents. And I believe he mentioned something about another friend of yours being ill?"  
  
"Yes. Um, a friend of a friend, actually, tested positive with HIV."  
  
"That's never an easy thing to deal with."  
  
"No, it isn't." She glanced away, then looked back and frowned. "When did he tell you all this?"  
  
"When I saw him last week. He was worried he wasn't being much help to you."  
  
"He's always a help to me." She smiled sadly. "I don't know what I'd do without him." Glancing down, she ran a hand over the slight swell, thinking about the day she'd told Doug they were going to have a baby. She'd stood in front of him, their faces inches apart, and just pressed his hand to her stomach. She didn't have to say a word. He just knew. And he'd been so happy.  
  
"He also told me about the baby. Never have I seen a more proud daddy-to- be."  
  
She smiled again, and this time it was, however briefly, genuine. "Sometimes I think he loves this baby more than I do."  
  
"Oh, something tells me that's not possible."  
  
She bit her lip against the tears that threatened to fall. "So, what do we do now?" she asked, changing the subject.  
  
He handed her a business card. "Leighanne Carlot is a counselor here who specializes in working with people with terminal cancer. She can talk to Doug - and you - and put you in touch with other counselors and support groups." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard."  
  
She stepped back and shook her head, her defenses suddenly taking over. "I doubt that you have any idea how hard this is."  
  
"I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't meant to offend you." After an awkward pause, he handed her another card. "Ten a.m. on Friday. She'll talk to you and Doug about everything, answer your questions, and then make an appointment for the biopsy and go over the procedures for that."  
  
Taking the appointment card, Joey nodded and looked up at the doctor. He was only six years older than Doug, but she'd known him a long time - but then, she'd known just about everyone in Capeside a long time. She trusted him, completely. And now she trusted him to be honest with her. "Is he going to die?"  
  
He studied her face. Usually when someone asked him that question, their eyes were full of hope, begging him to say that it would be all right. Not so with Joey Witter. Her eyes told him that she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear the truth from him anyway, no matter how much it was going to hurt her. He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."  
  
Nodding slowly, she pocketed the cards and walked to the door. As she reached it, she turned back. "Thank you." Then she left to find her husband.  
  
As she walked through the hospital corridors, she tried to focus her attention on anything but what Dr. Ryan had just told them. She tried to think about the book she was currently working on. She tried to think about all the shopping she needed to do for the baby. She tried to think about the work Doug had started on what would become the nursery. She tried to think about the reunion they were planning to hold in a couple of weeks.  
  
That thought actually managed to distract her for a while. Every fall Dawson, Pacey, Jen, Drue, and Andie came back to Capeside, where she and Jack remained. After Capeside High's five-year reunion, they'd decided that having their own was a better idea. They just didn't see the point of pretending to be able to stand the very same people they'd pretended around in high school. With some effort, Joey had conned her sister into shutting down the B&B for one long weekend a year. This would be the third year they'd had it.  
  
She was looking forward to seeing Pacey's wife, Alex, and their little boy, Matthew. Joey had been very impressed when she'd met Alex four years ago. The woman was a partner in an investigative firm in New York City, a job Joey knew took guts. And she had to qualms about putting Pacey in his place every now and then, which made her okay in Joey's book. And in Doug's too.  
  
And that brought her mind back to Doug, just as she found him sitting in the passenger seat of their Explorer. The car had been Doug's choice. He'd wanted her to drive something that could handle Capeside roads in the snow. She'd protested, telling him she'd been driving in winter for years in small, front-wheel-drive cars, but he'd won out. Like he always did.  
  
Opening the door, she smiled at him as she climbed in, but he didn't seem to notice her. "Doug?"  
  
No reaction.  
  
"Doug?" she tried again. "Hello, Earth to Doug Witter. Come in, Doug Witter."  
  
He shook himself and finally turned to look at her. "Jo?"  
  
"Yeah, that would be me. So, you finally decided to acknowledge my existence?"  
  
"I'm sorry," he said softly, but the apology was genuine. "I was just, just thinking about-" he broke off, unable to finish the thought even in his mind. "How long were you talking to me?"  
  
"Not too long. Don't worry about it. I completely understand you being out of it." She leaned over and kissed him gently, thankful that, at least for now, they could pretend that they hadn't just been told he was likely going to die. "Ready to go home?"  
  
"Definitely," he murmured in reply, squeezing her hand as she started the car. "Let's get out of here, huh?" He forced a smile to his lips, though he knew she could see right through the façade. Just as he could see through the act she was putting on. 


	2. Face Facts

Title: Not Enough Time to Say Good-Bye Summary: Doug is married to Joey. When he is told he is dying, they learn the true meaning of friendship. And of love. Rating: PG, probably  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Friday morning found Joey and Doug sitting side by side in an office at Mass General Hospital. The last few days had been some of the hardest of her life. As they waited to meet the specialist - Dr. Julie Steinbeck - for the first time, Joey's mind wandered to the arguments she and Doug had had since the appointment with Dr. Ryan.  
  
The first had been upon walking in the door after the silent ride home. She'd wanted to call Pacey and tell him what was happening, but Doug had vehemently refused.  
  
"No, Joey. We don't know what's going to happen yet. I don't want to alarm him or anyone else needlessly. He's got enough to worry about," Doug protested.  
  
"Doug, he's your brother. You two have gotten so close over the last few years. Why would you hide this from him?" Joey asked.  
  
"I'm not hiding anything. I'd just rather wait to talk to him about it until I actually know something, all right?"  
  
"No. You are hiding. But not from Pacey. You just don't want to tell him because telling him means you have to think about everything the doctor just said, and you don't want to."  
  
"Can you blame me?" he exploded. "Excuse me, Joey, but the doctor just told me I'm going to die. Pardon me for having a hard time with this."  
  
"Doug, I don't blame you for having a hard time dealing with this. But you're dealing with it the same way you've always dealt with everything. You aren't. You're just pretending it's going to go away. And it isn't!"  
  
"I know that, Joey. Trust me, I know." He stormed out of the house and a moment later she heard the squeal of tires as he pulled out of the driveway.  
  
Then there was the fight they'd had when she'd mentioned the therapist that the doctor had told her about.  
  
"Doug, maybe it would help you to talk to someone. She's trained to help people deal with these kinds of things."  
  
"Joey, no psychiatrist is going to make this any easier on me unless they're going to tell me I'm going to live through this after all."  
  
"Don't talk like that. Dr. Ryan said that this specialist would go over options with us. There might be something-"  
  
He cut her off. "Don't go down that road, Joey. A 20% chance of survival is pretty low."  
  
"But it's still a chance, Doug."  
  
"Joey, don't delude yourself. You know better than this. Don't try to convince yourself it's going to be okay when it's not. And don't try to convince me."  
  
That argument had ended the same way, with Doug storming out of the house and driving off for hours at a time. And then they'd fought on Wednesday afternoon about whether he was going to work on Thursday.  
  
"I know you feel like you're shirking your responsibility. But Doug, you're so distracted. It can't be safe. With our luck the one time that something actually happens in this town would be when you're too distracted to be able to do anything."  
  
"Jo, I need this. I need to get out and try to get my mind off of this."  
  
"Think about this, Doug. If something happens and you're too out of it and someone dies - say one of those kids that have just joined the department - you'll never be able to forgive yourself."  
  
He stared at her, knowing she was right, and sank down onto the couch. "I- I don't know, Jo. I just need to feel like something is normal in my life. And nothing is right now."  
  
"But getting yourself into trouble on the job isn't going to help." She sat down next to him and put her arms around him. "I know it's hard. Trust me. I spent the entire time my mother was sick just wanting to feel normal again. Eventually, my friends - Dawson, Pacey - helped me feel like my life was back on track." She brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I know you did the same for Bessie, and she will always be grateful to you."  
  
She'd won that argument, in a manner of speaking. He'd stayed in the house and, though he didn't talk to her about how he was feeling, he didn't have to. They'd sat there on the couch as he gave up the fight to hold back his tears. She'd felt like it was a step in the right direction.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Witter?"  
  
"Yes," Doug said as they both stood. "It's Doug. This is my wife, Joey."  
  
"Pleased to meet you." She shook hands with them both and then sat down behind her desk. "Now, how much do you know about what you're facing?"  
  
"We've done some research on it," Joey said. "We pretty much know the basics."  
  
"Good. That makes my job easier." She smiled. "I understand that Dr. Ryan gave you some statistics on what your chances are for beating this?"  
  
"He said my chances were low."  
  
"Unfortunately, yes. How long have you been having the headaches that made you go to him?"  
  
"Months, really. Um, since about a month after my dad died, so, about 10?" He glanced at Joey, who nodded, then looked back at the doctor. "I thought it was just stress. I'd take aspirin and Jo would massage my shoulders and neck, and they'd usually go away, so I didn't think anything of it, really."  
  
"And what made you make an appointment? The dizzy spells?"  
  
"Yes. I almost passed out at work, and, ah, that wasn't a good thing."  
  
"What do you do?"  
  
"I'm Sheriff in Capeside, Mass."  
  
She nodded. "I can see how collapsing at work would be a bad thing in that job."  
  
"Yeah." He shifted uncomfortably. "What's going to happen?"  
  
"Right to the point. I like that - it's how I am." She glanced down at her notes. "First thing first, we're going to arrange a biopsy. Do you know what that involves?" When they both nodded, she looked surprised. "Usually people don't have a clue."  
  
"My mother died of cancer 13 years ago. I'm familiar with a lot of the procedures," Joey said quietly. "And Doug was practically a part of our family even then."  
  
Dr. Steinbeck nodded. "I understand." Shuffling some pages she said, "I'll just go over it briefly with you anyway - there are some things you need to understand where this is dealing with the brain."  
  
Joey and Doug nodded, and she said, "First of all, it's actually called a stereotactic biopsy. As with a lot of surgical procedures, you can't eat or drink anything from midnight on and no alcohol after six p.m. the day before the operation. When you come in, we'll do another MRI, and then we'll do the actual surgery."  
  
She paused and tilted her head to the side, waiting to see if either Doug or Joey had any questions. When neither spoke, she went on. "For the surgery, we anesthetize you, but you'll remain awake. We shave part of your head, drill a small hole through the skull, insert a needle, and take a tissue sample. Then you're done. You go to the recovery room, and go home the next day." She paused. "It's a relatively simple procedure, but not without risk. You need to know that."  
  
"What's the risk?" Joey asked, feeling Doug tense beside her.  
  
"There's a 3% mortality rate with a stereotactic brain biopsy. Working in that region of the body is always dangerous."  
  
Uncomfortable with that statistic, even though she knew 3% was low, Joey asked, "How necessary is it to do a biopsy?"  
  
"Right now we're about 85% certain of the diagnosis. The biopsy will confirm that so that we know for certain what we need to do to treat it. If you really don't want to do it, we can go ahead with treatment without doing a biopsy, but I don't recommend it."  
  
"And what happens after you confirm the diagnosis?" Doug asked.  
  
"We start the first stage of treatment, resection. That's surgical removal of the tumor. We perform a craniotomy - removing part of the skull to access the brain. We replace the pieces of bone when we're finished. And we try to remove as much of the tumor as we can. It's a very risky procedure - we do lose patients. I won't lie about that. But without it, your chances of survival are approximately zero."  
  
"Jesus Christ," Joey muttered. "Sounds like the treatment's just as bad as the disease."  
  
"Unfortunately, that's all too often the case."  
  
"What are the chances of being able to remove it all?" Doug refused to look at the doctor as he spoke, fearing that he already knew the answer to his question.  
  
"Right now, the chances of that happening look very slim. But surgery isn't your only hope. As I said, that's the first stage of treatment. Chemotherapy follows the resection, and then there's radiation therapy."  
  
Joey closed her eyes. Those were words she'd never thought she'd have to hear again. And definitely not in association with the life of the man she loved.  
  
"If we don't do the treatments - if I decide to just go home and forget about all of this - how long will I live?" Doug fought to keep his voice from cracking, to no avail.  
  
Dr. Steinbeck frowned. "I'd say, given the results of the MRI, about six months."  
  
Joey's heart nearly stopped. Six months? Her husband could be dead in six months? "And if we agreed to the surgery and nothing else?" she asked. She was fairly certain Doug would agree to the surgery. She wasn't sure about chemo or radiation. They both remembered her mother's suffering all too vividly.  
  
"Well, that will depend on the outcome of the surgery - how much we are unable to remove."  
  
"Can you give us some kind of estimate?" Joey persisted.  
  
"Let's see." She glanced at a few of the pages scattered on the desk. "Going on the aforementioned assumption that we won't be able to remove it all, I'd say a year to 18 months."  
  
"And with chemo and radiation?"  
  
"Two to two and a half years."  
  
"So what you're saying is that I'm going to die no matter what?" Doug asked, a hard edge to his voice.  
  
"I'm giving you an estimate based on what little information I currently have. Medicine is far from being an exact science, especially without so much as a confirmed diagnosis."  
  
"Is. That. What. You're. Saying?" Doug asked slowly, accentuating every word.  
  
"I'm saying that is what you need to be prepared for. I don't believe in giving my patients false hope. Your outlook could be a lot better than that, and I hope that it will be. But there are no guarantees." She spoke slowly and her words, though harsh, were softened by the obvious compassion and understanding in her voice.  
  
Joey's mind was spinning. She'd expected to hear this, had tried to prepare herself, but her attempts had been futile. She was again reminded of something Jen's grandmother had said to her after their friend Jack had told them his boyfriend had tested positive for HIV.  
  
"Trying to prepare yourself for pain in the future is a wasted effort. You can't do it, and it only makes you dwell on the pain you feel in the present. Spend your energy looking for the positive. Yes, Mark will die far, far too young. But enjoy the time you have with him now. It is in those memories that you will find comfort once he's gone."  
  
She could have been talking about now, really. Joey had thought about Grams' words several times over the last few days, and she'd tried to follow the advice, but it was easy to forget sometimes. It was easy to convince herself that the words wouldn't be so hard to hear if she'd prepared herself to hear them. "This is unbelievable," she heard herself say.  
  
"Unbelievable but unfortunately very real," Dr. Steinbeck agreed.  
  
Doug sat silently, eyes closed. His head was pounding, a constant, rhythmic reminder of why he was here, in this office, his life changing with every word spoken. He tried to take a deep breath, but suddenly felt as if his throat was closing up on him. Opening his eyes, he saw the room spinning around him. Squeezing them shut again, he clutched at the arm of the chair and tightened his grip on Joey's hand as his stomach did somersaults and tied itself in knots. He heard someone say his name, but it sounded as if it was coming from somewhere far away and he couldn't recognize the voice.  
  
Joey felt Doug's hand tighten on hers. Glancing at him, she saw his eyes closed and his face twisted in an all too familiar expression of pain. "Doug? Doug, just breathe, okay? Deep breaths. Come on, it's all right. Just breathe." She kept her voice calm and level; she was getting used to this by now, and that was a thought that frightened her beyond measure - when she gave herself leave to think about it.  
  
Dr. Steinbeck watched them with interest. Seeing Doug start to calm down, she decided not to intervene. "You're very good with him."  
  
"This has been happening a lot lately," Joey replied softly. She rubbed Doug's back gently, giving him a grounding touch to help him through the dizzy spell.  
  
Slowly, his breathing evened out, but Joey didn't release him. She held his hand as he leaned his head back against the cool wall.  
  
By the time he could open his eyes and not have everything moving around him only three minutes had passed but, as always, it felt like a lifetime to Joey. "You okay?" she asked him gently.  
  
He nodded, his white face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about that," he murmured, glancing at Dr. Steinbeck.  
  
"You needn't apologize," she told him. "However, I would like you to tell me what just happened."  
  
He ran a hand through his hair. "It, ah, got kind of hard to breathe, and then the room started to spin."  
  
"Headache or nausea?" she queried.  
  
"Both. Um, my head's been hurting for a while, and I started feeling sick once I got dizzy."  
  
"This is how it's been for the last few weeks?" she asked, making a few notes on the pad in front of her and looking up at them.  
  
"Yes, but it's usually not that bad." Doug glanced at Joey out of the corner of his eye and caught the concerned expression on her face. He knew she hated seeing him like that, and he hated having her see him like that. He hated scaring her, and he knew these episodes always left her frightened.  
  
"Is it getting worse a little at a time? Or was this one a lot worse than it has been?"  
  
"Um, a little worse each time."  
  
"All right." She made a few more notations and pushed the pad aside. Then, pulling out a drawer, she took out a few sheets of paper. "This is information on what a stereotactic brain biopsy is and the procedures we follow here at Mass General." She handed the pages to Joey who, after a quick glance, folded them and slipped them into her bag. Then the doctor picked up a pamphlet from the corner of her desk, which she also gave to Joey. "That is information on treatment options. Now, do you have any questions?"  
  
Joey nodded. "Two things. One, who is the doctor who'll perform the operations? Is it you? And is there anything specific we should be watching for right now?"  
  
"Yes, I'm a certified neurosurgeon, and I will be the one who operates on Doug. As for what to look out for, yes, there are a few things. If the dizzy spells suddenly get substantially worse, cal me immediately. Also, be aware that seizures are common among people with brain tumors."  
  
Joey swallowed and felt the knot in her stomach growing larger by the second. "Seizures?"  
  
Dr. Steinbeck nodded. "My secretary will give you some information about what to do if someone near you has a seizure, but I'll tell you the most important things. First, protect him - try to keep him from falling, or to keep him from injuring himself on anything. Secondly, don't try to put anything in his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue or lips. Third, don't try to hold him down or move him in any way. Fourth, pay close attention to what happens - you'll need to be able to tell emergency responders as much as you can. For example, pay attention to how long the seizure lasts, what movements his body made, how he acted before and after it happened." She paused. "And always call for medical assistance as soon as you can. But don't leave him alone."  
  
She stopped speaking and regarded Joey closely. Her face was pale, and she looked stunned at the prospect of this happening to her husband. Can't blame her, she thought to herself. No one should have to even think about this. "But there is one other thing you should know. Not all seizures involve the person moving at all. Some people, when they have a seizure, simply seem to lose touch with reality. They seem to be awake but they don't respond normally to their environment, and once they snap out of it, so to speak, they won't remember that it even happened."  
  
Joey closed her eyes tightly and took several deep breaths as she tried to sort out everything she'd been hearing. This was just one nightmare after another. "This is just going to get worse and worse, isn't it?"  
  
"I'm afraid so. Oh, the other thing to watch for is, have you been getting sick at all? Any times you've been unable to keep food down?"  
  
"No. Not yet anyway."  
  
"Good. If that happens and goes on continuously for more than 24 hours, call me. My business card, which I believe you already have?" she asked questioningly. At Joey's nod she continued, "has my cellular number. If you can't reach me at the office, call that."  
  
"Thank you," Joey said softly.  
  
"No thanks necessary. This is my job; it's what I'm here for. Any other questions?" When they both shook their heads Dr. Steinbeck stood. Coming around the desk she said, "My secretary will make the appointment and get you any additional information that you need." She waited as Joey helped Doug to his feet, then shook their hands. "It was good meeting you, though I wish it had been under other circumstances."  
  
"Me too," Joey said softly, turning to follow Doug out. 


	3. My Brother

Title: Not Enough Time to Say Good-Bye Summary: Doug is married to Joey. When he is told he is dying, they learn the true meaning of friendship. And of love. Rating: PG, probably  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"I'm calling Pacey," Joey said softly, as she tossed her jacket onto the couch. She reached for the phone but he caught her arm. Squeezing it tightly, he pulled her away from the phone.  
  
"You aren't calling him."  
  
She turned and looked him straight in the eyes, knowing that the pain she saw in them was mirrored in her own and wishing there was something, anything, that she could do to take that pain away, knowing that there was nothing she could do to make it better. "Doug, he needs to know. He deserves to know. Not only are you his brother, you're one of his best friends. And I know that you feel the same way about him. Doug, he can help you deal with this. Hell, he can help me deal with this."  
  
"No, Jo. I'm not ready for him to know."  
  
She stared at him. Shaking her head slowly she said, "No, this isn't about you not being ready for him to know. This is about you not being ready for this to be real. But you know what, Doug? It is real. And you and I both have to deal with that." His grip on her arm tightened, and continued to tighten until Joey cried out in pain.  
  
"You're hurting me, Doug." She tried to wrench her arm away, but only succeeded in hurting herself more. She met Doug's eyes again and fought back tears. "You're hurting me, Doug," she said again, her voice softer this time.  
  
Abruptly, a strange look came over his face and he released her. Watching her rub her arm gingerly, he tried to speak. "Jo, I-" Then he stopped speaking and turned and practically ran from the house. A moment later she heard the engine to the Explorer start and saw the truck drive off down the street.  
  
Collapsing to the couch and letting her tears flow freely, she picked up the phone and dialed Pacey's number.  
  
A woman answered. "Hello?"  
  
"Alex? It's, uh, it's Joey. Is, um, is Pacey there?" she stammered.  
  
"Yes, I'll get him. Joey, are you all right?"  
  
"No, not really, no. Listen, I'm sorry, but I really, really need to talk to Pacey." Joey felt bad for being rude to Pacey's wife, but she was too stressed and scared to really care at this point.  
  
"Don't apologize, Joey. It's okay." Placing her hand over the mouthpiece Alex called, "Pacey? Joey's on the phone."  
  
He emerged from the bedroom. "Joey?"  
  
"Yeah. She sounds really upset, Pace. I think she's been crying, and she'll only talk to you. She won't say a word to me."  
  
"Joey? Crying? Are you kidding?"  
  
"Sadly, no."  
  
Pacey took the phone from her hand and retreated back to the bedroom. "Jo? What's up?"  
  
"Pacey, can you get here?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"To Capeside? Can you get here? I really need you."  
  
He frowned and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Joey's voice was shaky and he could tell that Alex was right - she'd definitely been crying. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen or heard her like this. "Jo, what's going on? Where's Doug?"  
  
"I-I don't know. He left."  
  
Left? "What do you mean he left?"  
  
"We argued. He didn't want me to call you. Pacey, please, can you come? Just you, not Alex Matt."  
  
Pacey wanted to push her for more information but knew he'd never get anywhere. Joey was the most stubborn person he'd ever met. It was one of the qualities that made him love her most of the time. But other times he hated it. This was one of the times he hated it. "All right, Jo. I'll be there as soon as I can. You're at your place?"  
  
"Yes." A pause. "Thank you, Pacey."  
  
"Hey, what are brothers-in-law for?"  
  
"See you soon." She pressed the button to switch the phone off, then curled up in a ball on the couch and let the tears go.  
  
***  
  
It was in this position that Pacey found her hours later after letting himself into the house with his key. He could see the tracks left by the tears that had run down her cheeks. But what disturbed him more were the bruises on her lower left arm. Kneeling beside her he brushed her hair back off her face and watched as she began to stir. "Well, good morning sleepyhead."  
  
"Is it morning?" she mumbled.  
  
"No. But you were just waking up, so."  
  
She smiled. "That always was your definition of morning."  
  
"Yup." As she drew herself up into a sitting position he sat down beside her on the couch and put an arm around her. "Now, you gonna tell me what happened to you? Where'd the bruises come from?"  
  
"Bruises? What?" She glanced down at her arm. "Oh. It's nothing, Pace," she said softly, covering them with her hand.  
  
"Jo, you just had me drive over three hours to get to Capeside from New York, on a Friday night, with no notice at all. Whatever is going on here is obviously not nothing. So tell me. Who did that to you? And don't say you walked into something because you're a terrible liar. Always have been." He smiled, but quickly sobered when she didn't even smirk. "Jo, you can deck me for this if I'm wrong, and Doug can too, but, um, well, did- did he do that to you?"  
  
She looked away from him, and that was all he needed for an answer. Setting his jaw he attempted to give his brother the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, Jo, you have about thirty seconds to convince me not to go find him and beat the shit out of him."  
  
"Other than reminding you that he outweighs you by, oh, thirty or forty pounds?"  
  
He didn't smile. "I'm serious, Jo. What did he do, and why?"  
  
Staring at him, she knew he really was serious, and he wasn't going to let this issue drop. "I wanted to call you, and he wouldn't let me. He grabbed my arm, and didn't realize how hard he was squeezing it. I tried to pull away and made it worse. It was more my fault than anything." That really was true. Doug hadn't realized how much he was hurting her. He'd been too dazed.  
  
"Okay then," Pacey said slowly, studying her face and looking for any sign that her story wasn't the truth. "Care to tell me why he didn't want you to call me? Or, even why you were calling me in the first place?"  
  
At the thought of telling Pacey that his brother was dying, her eyes filled with tears that she didn't even attempt to stop. Wrapping both arms around his sister-in-law he pulled her close to her, letting her bury her head in his shoulder and cry.  
  
After only a few minutes the tears subsided, and she could face him again, as long as she reminded herself that this absolutely had to be done and that she was the only one who could do it. "Pace, you know Doug hasn't been feeling well for a while, right? Headaches, dizzy sometimes?"  
  
He frowned. "Yeah, I think he mentioned it at some point. I figured he was just stressed and upset about dad."  
  
"Yeah, um, that's what he thought, too." The tears were filling her eyes again, and she blinked, trying to hold them back until she'd said what she needed to say. "Turns out it's not that simple."  
  
Pacey froze. He didn't like where this conversation was going in the least. "Is something wrong with Doug, Jo?"  
  
She glanced up at the ceiling, then down at the floor - and everywhere else she could think of to avoid looking at Pacey, but eventually she forced herself to meet his eyes again. "Yeah, there is."  
  
He swallowed hard. The look on Joey's face made it clear she was devastated by whatever she was trying to tell him. And anything that could do that to Joey scared the hell out of him. "He's sick? What's wrong with him?"  
  
"Um, sick is not exactly the most accurate word, Pace. Dying is somewhat closer to the truth." She tried to laugh at the flip way she told him, but the reality of the situation was anything but amusing.  
  
Pacey stared at her, stunned. I did not hear her right. There's no way Doug is dying. The man doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, God forbid he take anything stronger than aspirin. He exercises til I'd be blue in the face. He can't be dying. He shook his head slowly. "I, uh, I must have misheard you, Jo. What did you just say?"  
  
"He's dying, Pacey. He has brain cancer, an invasive tumor. The diagnosis hasn't been confirmed yet - they're doing a biopsy on Tuesday to make sure they diagnosed him correctly. But they're pretty certain. We met with a specialist today, actually, a doctor at Massachusetts General in Boston." She forced herself to look directly at him. "They don't think he'll survive, even if he goes through all the stages of treatment."  
  
Pacey tried to speak, but no words came to mind, and even if they had, he doubted he'd have been able to force them past his lips. Doug? Cancer? Her words echoed in his head. Dying.don't think he'll survive.brain cancer.dying.dying.dying. Only the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching shook him out of his trance.  
  
Dazedly, he looked up and saw Doug kneeling in front of him and Joey. His older brother reached out toward him, laying a hand on his knee. "You okay, Pace?"  
  
Pacey didn't answer, just stared numbly at his brother. He felt Joey slip away from him. "I'll leave you two alone, and go find something that we can eat for a late dinner." Doug nodded, standing as she did and wrapping his arms around her.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Jo."  
  
"It's okay," she whispered. "But we can talk later, if that's what you want. Right now, he needs you." 


	4. Here For You

Title: Not Enough Time to Say Good-Bye Summary: Doug is married to Joey. When he is told he is dying, they learn the true meaning of friendship. And of love. Rating: PG, probably  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Pacey continued to stare at his brother as a million thoughts ran through his head, none of which he could get any kind of grasp on. "Is it true?" he finally asked softly.  
  
Doug opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, so he closed his lips and silently sat down beside Pacey. Unbidden, a memory permeated his thoughts.  
  
"Mike said you wanted to talk to me?" Doug asked Lillian Potter.  
  
"Yes." She patted the side of the bed. "Sit down, Doug."  
  
Slowly, he did as she said and fought the urge to ask any questions. Lily did things her own way and it was useless - counter-productive, really - to push her when she didn't want to be pushed.  
  
"I suppose you know that I just got back from the hospital?"  
  
Doug nodded. "I came over to see how you're doing."  
  
"I know. Thank you for that." She sighed and gave him a sad smile. "I'm not well, Doug, and I'm not going to get better. I think we've all known that for a while now." Doug just nodded, fearing that he knew where this conversation was going and dreading its arrival at its destination.  
  
"Doug, I have a favor to ask of you. You've been so wonderful through all of this that I really shouldn't ask anything more from you. But I have to." She met his tear-filled eyes. "Bess is going to need you, Doug. Now more than ever, because I'm not going to be around much longer." She patted his hand. "Be there for her, Doug. That's all I ask."  
  
Doug shook himself out of the reverie. Lillian had been such a compassionate woman. Throughout her illness, her concerns had been for her daughters. And Doug knew that was where his concern needed to be now - for his wife and brother.  
  
He put an arm around Pacey's shoulder, pulling his little brother closer to him. "Yeah, it is." His voice was just as soft as Pacey's had been, and thick with emotion.  
  
Pacey met Doug's eyes and myriad images assaulted him. Doug standing up beside him as his best man. Doug holding Matthew the day he was born. Himself beside Doug as he and Joey said their vows. The absolute elation on Doug's face as he told Pacey that Joey was pregnant. Abruptly, those images were replaced by the more recent memory of the devastation he'd seen in Joey's eyes only minutes before. "God, this sucks," he muttered. The words were trite and downright meaningless, he knew, but they were the only words he trusted himself to say.  
  
Despite the gravity of the situation, Doug had to laugh at Pacey's choice of words. "That's certainly one way of putting it."  
  
Pacey didn't smile. The emotion in his eyes changed from pain to hurt as he regarded Doug. "Why didn't you want to tell me? Why didn't you want me to know?"  
  
"Aw, Pace," Doug said softly, his face sober once again. "It wasn't that I didn't want you to know. It wasn't that at all. In fact, Joey hit it on the head. Telling you meant acknowledging that it was real - that it was really happening and not just some awful nightmare I'm going to wake up from. I just wasn't ready to do that. I'm still not, not really." He looked away so that Pacey wouldn't see the tears filling his eyes.  
  
But the gesture was wasted. "You don't always have to be the strong one, you know," Pacey said softly. "Everyone hurts. I know that, Joey does. I hope you're not pretending to her that you're okay with all of this."  
  
Doug shook his head as he turned back to his brother. Pacey knew him far too well. "I was. Still am, a little. Difference is, now I can admit that it's just pretending." He swallowed around the lump in his throat and the tears began to fall. "I don't want to die, Pace," he whispered.  
  
Pacey wrapped his arms around his brother. "I know. And that's okay, you know." He pulled Doug close as the older man began to cry. It was the first time he could recall seeing Doug cry - even when they were kids he'd had to be the tough one, the one who never showed how much it hurt, even when he split his chin open when he was 12 trying to teach Pacey how to ride his bike. Although a bit disconcerting it was, at the same time, somehow comforting to Pacey that Doug was no longer trying to be the strong one. At least around him.  
  
After several minutes, the tears subsided and Doug was back in control of his emotions - for the most part. "Thanks, Pace."  
  
Pacey waved away his gratitude. "Don't worry about it. How many times you been there for me?"  
  
"That's true." Doug smiled. "And in consideration of how much you owe me, can I ask you a favor?"  
  
"Anything. Well, anything within reason," Pacey clarified as Doug raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Go talk Joey into getting out of here. I don't care if it's to go shopping, to go to Jack's, to just go for a walk. Just get her out of the house. It's still early, and she hasn't left my side since we found out about this except when I've stormed out after we've argued. She needs a break from looking after me and."  
  
"And since I'm here, she can have one," Pacey finished for him.  
  
"Do you mind?"  
  
"Course not. In fact, I was gonna suggest the same thing."  
  
"Thanks," Doug said, leaning back against the arm of the couch.  
  
"One condition though, man," Pacey said.  
  
Doug raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and what would that be?"  
  
"That you fall asleep before I talk to her. For two reasons. One, you look like hell. Two, you and I both know she'd never leave me here alone with you unless you fall asleep. And even then, it's iffy."  
  
"Deal." Doug squeezed his hand and closed his eyes.  
  
"One more thing. I get the impression that I'm the first one you've told." At Doug's nod, he continued. "Well, anyone she talks to is going to know something's wrong. Do you want her to keep this a secret?"  
  
Doug sighed. "I don't know. I mean, I don't want the whole town to know - they're going to soon enough anyway. But Jack and Mark, or if she wants to call Jen - or you can call Alex - that's fine. She needs to be able to talk to someone."  
  
"All right. I'll tell her that. Now get some sleep."  
  
"Yes, sir." Doug saluted weakly, then drifted off.  
  
Pacey stayed with Doug for the whole three minutes it took him to fall asleep. Slowly disengaging himself from his brother, he stood and walked into the kitchen.  
  
He found Joey sitting at the kitchen table, elbow resting on the surface, chin propped on her hand. She didn't move at all when he entered - didn't seem to notice that she was no longer alone.  
  
"Thought you were making food."  
  
That caught her attention. She looked up and gave him a wan smile. "I was going to. But," she gestured toward the refrigerator, "There's really no food in the house. Neither Doug or I have thought to go shopping." She shrugged apologetically. "Our minds have kind of been elsewhere."  
  
He pulled a chair out and sat down across from her. Reaching over the table he took her hand in both of his. "Yeah, I'll bet." He paused, then asked, "I now know how Doug's doing. But how are you?"  
  
Joey forced a smile to her face. "Aw, you know me, Pace," she said brightly. "I'm dealing with it. Same as always, as every other time."  
  
"I figured."  
  
She nodded. "You know me so well." Brushing a lock of hair back off her face, she decided to change the subject. "How's Doug?"  
  
"Asleep. Looked like he needed it."  
  
"He does. He doesn't sleep well. The headaches and nausea keep him up." She sighed. "They keep me up, too."  
  
"He knows that. In fact, he suggested that while I'm here, you take advantage and get out of here for a while. Take a break; go to Jack and Mark's or something. I'd say go to Jen's, but I can't see you putting that much distance between you and Doug."  
  
"Pacey, I can't. There's so much you'd have to know."  
  
"I can learn. What, did they give you a bunch of pamphlets and papers and stuff to tell you everything to do and not to do?" When she nodded he said, "So give them to me, and get out of here."  
  
"Pace-" Joey began, but gave up when she caught the determined look in his eye. "All right. But Pace, if I go over to Jack's he's gonna want to know what's up."  
  
"So tell him."  
  
She stared at him incredulously. "Doug didn't want you to know. He'd kill me if I told Jack."  
  
"No, he won't. He said you could. He doesn't want you dealing with this alone." He held up his hands defensively. "This was his idea, Jo." He paused. "And if you don't feel like doing it because he said to, do it for me, okay? I'd feel a hell of a lot better when I can't be around if I knew that someone else in Capeside knew and was able to help you out if you need it."  
  
After a long moment, she nodded. "All right. I'll go out for a while." Pointing across the room at a drawer she said, "The information they gave us at the hospital is in there."  
  
"Thanks Jo. Now get out of here."  
  
She couldn't help but laugh. "I'm going, I'm going."  
  
He watched her leave the kitchen, thoroughly amazed at her resilience. She'd been through so much - her mother, her dad, losing her second father in Mitch Leery - and she still managed to keep going. He was sure he couldn't have. 


	5. No Words

Title: Not Enough Time to Say Good-Bye Summary: Doug is married to Joey. When he is told he is dying, they learn the true meaning of friendship. And of love. Rating: PG, probably  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Joey had started to drive to Jack's, but changed her mind. Instead, she parked in a lot about a quarter of a mile down the beach from his house. She needed some time to think, and she'd always loved to walk along the beach in a storm. Glancing at the sky as she got out of her car she decided there was a big one headed their way.  
  
She tightened her coat around her as she headed down to the water line. Her mind was a swirl of emotions she couldn't get a handle on. There was fear of what was going to happen to Doug, pain at the thought of losing the man she loved, anger at this latest suffering being forced upon her and her friends. But the emotion that trumped all of those was, she found, the simple gratitude she felt for having friends like Pacey.  
  
The wind started to pick up, whipping her hair around her face. She didn't try to keep it out of her eyes, knowing the effort would be in vain. Instead, she ducked her head and turned up the collar on her coat and continued to walk along the water.  
  
A streak of lightning sizzled through the sky overhead, illuminating the dark ocean. She could see the waves, fueled by the wind, racing toward shore, and she realized suddenly that she'd gotten a little too close to the water. Joey stepped back quickly to avoid being hit by one of the bigger waves.  
  
But she stepped too quickly and ended up sitting on the sand just as the rain began to fall. Shaking her head and laughing at herself, she started to get up but was frightened by the sudden appearance of a hand in front of her. Letting out an involuntary gasp, she scrambled back a few inches and got to her feet on her own.  
  
"I wasn't going to hurt you," a man's voice said. "Just going to-" he stopped speaking for a moment. "Joey?"  
  
Her eyes widened. "Mark! I'm sorry. I didn't see you. You startled me."  
  
"I can see that. What in the world are you doing out here, in this weather?"  
  
"I - I needed to get away from the house for a while. I needed to think and-" she stopped talking when it occurred to her that he wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about.  
  
Had it not been so dark she would have seen the confusion - and concern - in his eyes. He'd only met Joey a year and a half ago when he'd come to Capeside with Jack for the first time, but he'd never seen her this flustered. "Come on, we're not far from the house. Why don't you come back with me?" Too stressed and drained to say anything, she let him take her hand and lead her through the darkness, to the beach house.  
  
***  
  
"Jack!" Mark called out when he and Joey, drenched and shivering from the driving rain, stepped inside. "Put some coffee on, will you?"  
  
"Already done," Jack replied, coming into the living room. "Joey? What are you doing here?" His only response was the chattering of her teeth. He couldn't help but laugh. "Here, let me find some sweats or something for you to put on. They'll be a little big, but better than wearing those." He disappeared into the back of the house and returned a moment later with a heavy terry robe. "Here. Go put this on. Coffee'll be ready in a minute."  
  
She gave him a grateful nod and walked to the bathroom. As she left, Mark pulled Jack aside. "She was walking down the beach. I don't know where her car is or why she was out in that," he said, gesturing toward the window as a loud crack of thunder shook the house, "but she seemed really upset. The only thing she said was that she needed to get away from the house for a while, that she needed to think." He shook his head and continued in a low tone. "Something's wrong, Jack."  
  
He heard her approaching footsteps so he raised his voice to a normal speaking level. "I'm going to go put on something warm - or at least dry. Back in a few." He patted Joey on the shoulder as he left the living room.  
  
Jack sat down on the sofa and motioned for Joey to sit beside him. He thought for a moment about how best to get her to talk about whatever was bothering her, but it turned out he didn't need to. "How do you deal with knowing that Mark is sick?" she asked softly.  
  
He didn't try to hide the look of surprise that passed over his face. "I don't think about it, really. This is gonna sound really cliché, but when I found out, I came to terms with it then, and decided to just make the most of the time we do have." He shrugged. "We don't even know how long that will be. Could be ten, fifteen, twenty years. Which, I guess, makes it easier to push it aside."  
  
"What if you knew he only had one or two? Years, I mean?"  
  
Jack frowned, trying to decipher where this conversation was going. "I guess it would hang over us a little more. But we'd deal with it somehow." He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Jo? What's going on? Why the questions?"  
  
She waited for a minute before speaking, waited for the tears to come as they always did and was surprised when they didn't. "Doug is - Doug is sick. He's dying."  
  
***  
  
After Joey left, Pacey spent a while looking over the information the two doctors had given Doug. He'd decided he was better off dealing with the reality of the situation without anyone around, so he wouldn't feel like he had to pretend to be okay with it all. But after more than an hour he'd had enough and pushed the material aside. Standing up, he went to check on Doug.  
  
His older brother was still sound asleep on the couch, so Pacey just took blanket off the back of the recliner and lay it over Doug. Then he returned to the kitchen and picked up the phone.  
  
His wife answered on the first ring. "Hello?"  
  
"Alex, honey, it's me."  
  
"Pacey, did you find out what's wrong?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did." He sank slowly into one of the kitchen chairs. "Doug's been diagnosed with cancer, Alex. I guess it's only a preliminary thing - they don't know for sure yet, but from what Joey said, they're pretty certain."  
  
She was silent. He could picture her face. Her mouth would be slightly open, her eyes wide. "What kind?" she finally asked.  
  
Mentally he thanked her for skipping the placating remarks. "Brain cancer. He has a tumor. I guess it's operable, but only to a point. The doctor told them," he said, but paused and swallowed around the lump in his throat. Trying again he repeated, "The doctor told them he probably won't survive it. It doesn't have a high survival rate anyway, but I guess they caught it too late." As he said these last words his voice dropped and the tears started to fall.  
  
After waiting long enough for him to regain his bearings she asked, "When will they know for sure?"  
  
Pacey wiped his face with a tissue. "He has a biopsy scheduled on Tuesday morning. They should know the results by Wednesday or Thursday."  
  
"You're staying, right?" she said, more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Yeah, at least until they find out, and figure out what they're gonna do." He frowned. "You don't mind, do you?"  
  
"Of course not, Pacey. He's your brother. That's where you should be right now." She paused thoughtfully. "You don't have any clothes or anything, do you?"  
  
"No, but I can manage. Doug's stuff will be a little big, but it'll do for a week or so. And I can just buy what I can't borrow."  
  
"Nonsense. Jen is driving up there tomorrow morning, to see Jack. I'll pack you a bag and ask her to drop it off for you. I'm sure she won't mind."  
  
"How do you know things about what my friends are doing and I don't?"  
  
"One, because Jen and I are friends in our own right and two, because she called here about an hour and a half after you left to say she was driving up and ask if we wanted to come. I told her I couldn't go, but that you were up there already."  
  
"You should have come."  
  
"I have to go to meet with Chris and Danny tomorrow afternoon, remember?"  
  
Pacey cursed under his breath. "That's right. I'm sorry, I forgot."  
  
"Pacey, you never remember these things anyway. And even if you usually did, I certainly wouldn't expect you to now." He could visualize the grin on her face as she said that. "And before you worry about Matt, he's going to my sister's. I called her after you left. I didn't think you'd be back before then."  
  
"When did you become a mind reader?"  
  
"I'm not a mind reader. I just know my husband. And I've gotten to know my brother- and sister-in-law too." She stopped speaking as their two-year- old toddled over to her. Stooping to pick him up she held the phone to his mouth. "Say hi to daddy."  
  
"Hi!" the little boy shouted into the phone.  
  
Pacey held the receiver slightly away from his ear. "Hi there, kiddo." The sound of his son's voice usually brought a smile to his lips, but this time it brought the tears back.  
  
Somehow, Alex apparently realized that. "You okay, Pace?"  
  
He hesitated. "It's just, the thing that keeps coming back to me is, Joey's three months pregnant. That baby is gonna be two years older when he dies, Alex. He's never gonna get to see his kid grow up. And that kid is never gonna know how great a father he would have been." The tears were flowing freely again.  
  
Outside the door to the kitchen, Doug stood in silence, listening to Pacey's end of the conversation with Alex. His heart wrenched at the tears he could hear in his younger brother's voice. Backing away slowly, any noise from his footsteps absorbed by the carpet underneath his feet, he retreated to his bedroom.  
  
***  
  
As Joey's words sank in, Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He shook his head, trying to grasp the meaning behind the words he'd heard. "What-How?" He gave up, unable to form a complete thought amongst the jumble of emotions running through his mind.  
  
"Last week Doug went in for a doctor's appointment because he was having headaches and dizzy spells. Monday, we went back to find out the test results, and this morning we met with a neuro-oncologist at Mass General." Joey spoke matter-of-factly, carefully keeping any emotion out of her voice. She was amazed at her ability to maintain her composure. "We'll know for certain by Thursday, at the latest, but they think he has a brain tumor. Well, they know he has a brain tumor. We'll know by then how bad it is, and what his chances are of living longer than one more year." As she finished speaking all the strength drained out of her and she collapsed against Jack, but there were still no tears.  
  
Jack didn't even try to speak. He knew from experience that there were no words he could say that would provide her any kind of comfort. So he sat there, arms around her, slowly meeting the eyes of his boyfriend who stood, white-faced, in the doorway. 


	6. Yes, I Understand

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dawson's Creek, though I wish I could own Jack. Or Doug.

**Chapter 6**

Pacey leaned back in his chair, laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. He hadn't laughed in the week since Joey had told him what they believed was wrong with Doug. Leave it to Jen. She always could do the impossible.

"So I told him I'd love to come over for coffee sometime, and how nice it was of him to ask me over as a surprise to his WIFE, what with her having been in bed since she had the baby last week."

"You gonna tell her?" Jack asked from his seat beside Mark.

"Well, after I said that, he went absolutely white - he was smart enough to know I was threatening him, even if he wasn't smart enough to realize he'd met me five times. I'll give him a couple days, then drop by." She shrugged. "He's a prick anyway, and she knows it."

Alex nudged Pacey, a grin dancing on her lips. "Hear that, Pace? Don't hit on Jen - she'll tell me."

"Naw, she and I have this whole "we're old friends" thing. She's more loyal to me than to you."

"You wanna bet?" Jen gave him an evil smirk. "Never underestimate the power of female bonding, Pacey Witter. Right, Doug?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Pace, women always come first with other women. I'm surprised you don't know that by now." He smiled, but everyone could tell it was forced.

Pacey sighed inwardly. The whole purpose of this little get together was to try to distract Doug, but the man absolutely refused to be distracted. Today was the day the doctor was supposed to be calling him with the biopsy results, and his mind was focused on that. Nothing any of them could do could wrest his focus away. Only Pacey's little boy, now taking his nap on Doug and Joey's bed, had come close to succeeding, shouting for Uncle Doug and Auntie Joey the second Alex got him in the door. He'd barely acknowledged his father's presence.

The shrill ring of the telephone dragged Pacey from his thoughts, and this time his sigh was audible. He knew who was going to be on the other end - they all did. It was nearly three, and the doctor had said she'd call before the office closed at four.

"Hello?" Joey answered the phone. Her expression grew even more somber as she nodded, as if the person on the other end of the phone could see her. "Yes, he's right here." She handed the phone off to Doug, and squeezed his hand supportively.

Pacey tightened his arms around Alex, and he saw Mark give Jack a gentle hug as Jack himself reached for Jen's hand. Pacey couldn't help but remember a similar scene last year, as they'd learned the results of Jack's first HIV test after finding out that Mark had tested positive. No one had been there for Mark when he'd found out what had happened. They were determined to be there for Jack.

Then, the news had been good. He wasn't sure that this would end so well.

_Jack was sitting stiffly by the phone when it rang. "Hello...speaking."_

Mark put an arm protectively around Jack's shoulders, as if his mere presence could fend off the pain that might be coming. Jen, sitting only a foot away and facing Jack, reached out and took one of his hands in both of hers, murmuring words of comfort. Her grandmother had been behind her, hands on both her shoulders, silently praying to a God that, out of all of them, only she truly believed in.

Pacey and Alex had been sitting side by side on the other side of the table, Matt on Pacey's lap. Amazingly, the toddler was silent, having somehow sensed that the adults in the room were very upset about something. Joey and Doug were standing off to the side with Andie, their faces pale but still hopeful.

Jack nodded slowly in response to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying to him. "Yes, I understand. Thank you." He replaced the receiver slowly and turned to look up at his boyfriend, his expression carefully blank.

Then he brushed his lips against the other man's. "It was negative."

Pacey was brought back to the present by his brother's voice. "Yes, I understand. Thank you."

They were the same words Jack had said then but Pacey refused to get his hopes up that the outcome would be the same. From the look on Joey's face - she'd been listening - the news was bad. Doug's face was just as blank as Jack's had been when he'd hung up the phone a year ago.

Doug handed the cordless back to his wife and waited until she'd hung it up to speak. "She said that it's what she thought it was. She's going to make an appointment for us to go in and talk about what to do next. Someone will call tomorrow."

He stopped talking and stood abruptly, swaying slightly so that he had to grab Joey's shoulder to steady himself. "Excuse me," he mumbled, and walked quickly out of the dining room.

Pacey watched him go, then turned to look at Joey. In true Potter fashion, she was putting up a front. She turned to Mark. "Do you...do you think you could go and see if he's...see how he's doing?"

Mark looked surprised that Joey had asked him rather than Pacey, but Pacey wasn't surprised. Doug had been talking a lot about Mark lately, asking Joey, Pacey, and Jack how Mark had dealt with finding out that he was sick. Pacey could talk to him later - would talk to him later. Right now Doug needed someone to reassure him that he could go on with his life.

Mark found Doug in his and Joey's bedroom, holding a photograph taken only last month. It was of him and Joey, both smiling broadly. She held her hands over her stomach, and he had his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"It's her you're worried about, isn't it?" Mark asked softly. "Her and the baby."

"Yeah, it is. If not for them, it would still be hard, but not like this. I don't want my child to grow up without a father."

"Or your wife to live without a husband."

Doug nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the framed photo. "You wouldn't think of it, but I'm not THAT afraid of dying. I am a cop, after all. I know it's only Capeside, and not a lot happens here, but I've always been prepared for it, you know? I've always known that, possibly, I could die before I was ready to, and I kind of accepted it. I'm a little afraid, and I don't want to die, but that's not what I'm thinking about, right now anyway. Probably will be later on."

"Eventually, it'll start to get to you. But when I found out, my first concern was for Jack, especially because I knew he could get it because of me. He still is my first concern. I can tell you, though, that Joey isn't thinking about herself. She's thinking about the baby, of course, but she's thinking about you, too."

"She's lost so much. She doesn't deserve this."

"Neither do you."

Doug didn't seem interested in commenting on that statement. Instead he asked, "How's Pacey doing?"

"He's worried about Joey, about you and the baby. I don't think it's really occurred to him that this is going to affect him, too. It starts to hit him whenever you look like you're dizzy, or in pain, but as quickly as it passes for you, it passes for him, too."

"How do you deal with it?"

"It's like Jack told Joey - and I warn you, it sounds like something from a bad movie. We talked about it, came to terms with it then, and now we just try to make the best of the time we have."

"Yeah, that does sound like a movie. That what all your classes taught you?" Mark was a guidance counselor at the high school, and as a licensed psychologist he spent a lot of time volunteering at the local hospital. He tried not to treat his friends like patients, though.

"No, that's what I tell the kids I talk to though, and the people at the hospital. It's the truth. Don't dwell on it. Just, try to make the best of it. Focus on what you have, not what you might lose. That'll only drive you crazy."


End file.
